


Passion Play

by Morgan (morgan32)



Series: Body And Soul [4]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, PWP, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-16
Updated: 2004-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If we could live without passion, maybe we could know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Without passion, we'd be truly dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passion Play

Doyle leaned back against the hood of the car. The metal was warm against his ass, heated by the Plymouth's still-idling engine. He looked out over the sand. The almost-full moon shone brightly over the waves. The surf was fairly high and there was a brisk wind blowing across the sands.

The Plymouth's engine cut out and Doyle turned to see Angel getting out of the car. As the vampire straightened the wind caught his long coat and it billowed out behind him. Doyle sighed. Every time he saw that...

Angel saw Doyle's look and stepped close. His eyes were predatory, sending shivers down Doyle's spine. Angel rested one hand on the still-warm hood of the car, then lifted his other hand to Doyle's face, cupping his cheek gently. Doyle looked up into the vampire's hungry eyes without fear. He was as hungry as Angel, and for the same thing.

The vampire's lips covered his. Angel's lips were cold: the effect of the night air on a body that was never fully warm. It was still new, still strange to Doyle. Yet what the vampire might lack in body heat he made up for in passion. Angel's tongue slid between Doyle's parted lips. Doyle found himself trapped against the car by Angel's body. Angel pushed him back against the hood. Letting the car take his weight, Doyle relaxed, leaning back as his lover directed. He found himself sliding down the polished hood a little way. The movement brought his groin into contact with Angel's. Doyle gasped as he felt the vampire's erection press against his own. Angel, too, felt it and he deepened the kiss they shared. Doyle reached up with his free hand and started to push at Angel's coat.

Angel pulled back, still holding Doyle in place with his body. "I could take you," he whispered, "right here, right now."

"You wouldn't get a fight from me," Doyle pointed out. He had his other hand free now, and succeeded in pushing Angel's coat away from his shoulders.

Angel shrugged the coat off and let it fall. His fingers ran through Doyle's hair, then grasped a chunk of it, forcing his head to the side and exposing his neck. Doyle felt Angel's cool lips on his neck, the vampire's tongue tracing the line of his jugular. He shivered, well aware that Angel was doing this deliberately, trying to frighten him, or goad him into a reaction. He trusted Angel ... but the sensation of the vampire's teeth against the vulnerable skin was going a bit far. Doyle bottled out.

"Angel," he said quietly. It was enough. Angel released him at once and backed off, leaving Doyle sprawled on the hood of the car.

"Let's take a walk," Angel suggested.

Doyle agreed, picking himself up. They walked down to the sand together. Angel's coat was left behind, right where it fell.

*

As they reached the sand, Angel slowed his pace, letting Doyle walk ahead. Doyle was wearing a scruffy red shirt that looked like it needed patching, and tight leather trousers that hugged his ass and thighs like a second skin. Angel watched the man's ass appreciatively as he walked, stepping over driftwood on his way down to the ocean. He remembered the hot throbbing of Doyle's erection beneath the leather and smiled with the knowledge that it had been for him.

For _him_. Not for Cordelia, who was still a subject they needed to discuss, but for him. Angel.

Yet he was also aware that his own feelings for Doyle were ... not conflicted, but not exactly pure either. What he'd felt a few moments before, kissing Doyle on the car, was simple, driven lust. He'd spoken the truth when he'd said he could have taken him ... on several levels. He knew that if Doyle hadn't stopped him, he would have torn the leather from his body and fucked him right there. Fast, rough, with no consideration or finesse.

But that wasn't how he wanted Doyle.

What he wanted was his friend's love. In a way, he already had it. He'd never known anyone trust him as Doyle did. Ever. For the feelings between them to become more was way too dangerous, for both of them. Doyle was vulnerable enough. In a way, he reminded Angel of Drusilla, the way she had been when they first met. Angel knew Doyle would end up being hurt by this relationship, however things might turn out. It was part of his curse.

He quickened his pace and caught up with his half-demon lover. He reached out and took his hand, not sure how the gesture would be received. Doyle smiled and let Angel do it. "You sure know how to pick a place, don't you?"

"The beach?" Angel glanced around them. "I used to come here ... years ago." He was expecting Doyle to ask further, but he didn't push it. They walked, hand in hand, along the edge of the water.

The tide was coming in and the crashing of the surf was loud. Doyle stopped walking suddenly. Angel, his hand still holding Doyle's, stopped as well and turned to face him. Doyle reached up and pulled Angel into a searing kiss.

As they kissed, Angel's hand drifted across the front of Doyle's trousers, discovering his extreme arousal. The hand stayed there, rubbing the leather gently. Waves swept around their feet but neither of them took any notice. Doyle began to unbutton Angel's shirt.

"Doyle ... " Angel said hesitantly, " ... here?"

"Right here. I can't wait, man." The shirt opened, revealing Angel's broad chest. Doyle ran his hands over the pale skin, exploring. He reached the waistband of Angel's trousers and looked up, seeking the vampire's permission with his eyes. Receiving no objection, Doyle knelt in the wet sand and continued to undress him. As he pulled Angel's trousers down he could smell the musk of Angel's cock. He ran his hands up Angel's bare legs, across and then between his thighs, a teasing touch. Angel's underpants joined his trousers and shirt on the sand.

Doyle looked up at Angel's naked body and gloried in the sight. In the moonlight the vampire's flesh was bleached of all colour, making the lines and curves of his body were more visible. Doyle's eyes moved over the broad chest, the hard, flat stomach. He reached up to cup his buttocks with both hands. His eyes fell to Angel's cock, hard and irresistibly close to his mouth. Impulsively, he pulled his lover closer and took his first ever taste.

Angel groaned aloud as the heat of Doyle's mouth surrounded him. The cool breeze played across his skin. The cold didn't bother him, but the contrast served to heighten the pleasure enormously. Doyle...Doyle was sucking on him, his tongue massaging the underside of Angel's cock. Somehow, Angel's hands were in his lover's hair, pulling him closer as his hips rocked with the rhythm of his lover's beating heart.

_Just the taste of him_, Doyle thought, _should be enough to make both of us come._ Angel, not human, tasted like no other lover Doyle had known. The shallow thrusts of the vampire's cock in his mouth aroused him still further. He could feel Angel's unwilling surrender in every place their bodies touched. It was thrilling to know how close ... how dangerous ...

...And somehow Doyle found enough control to wrench away. His hands left Angel's body, too. For just a moment, he didn't dare even look at his lover. One of them _had_ to stay in control, here.

Angel, deprived of Doyle's support, fell to his knees, just as a large wave broke over them both. Unexpectedly engulfed by shocking cold, Doyle cried out. He rubbed at his eyes to get the salt and sand out of them. Thanks to his half-demon heritage, the cold affected him only slightly more than it did Angel; the wave had shocked him back to his senses, but had done very little to calm his raging lust.

When he could see again, Doyle looked for his lover. The sight started the fires within him all over again. Angel was bent double, the water swirling around his knees now up to mid-thigh. One of his hands gripped the sand, supporting him, while the other was between his legs, fisting his rigid cock.

Doyle could barely breathe as he watched Angel masturbate. The tension in the vampire's body made each sinew stand out, the muscles clenched beneath his skin, shining wet in the moonlight. As he reached orgasm, he threw his head back, a primal shout of joy forced from his throat.

For a few moments there was silence, the only sound the waves breaking around them.

Doyle hastily pulled off his own clothing. It was soaking wet now, anyway. Angel still hadn't moved. Doyle went to him, kneeling in the water with Angel. His hands, chilled by the night and by the ocean, nonetheless felt warm as he caressed the vampire's flesh, tracing the curve of his shoulder and back, fingertips dancing across Angel's tattoo. He felt Angel's muscles relax beneath his hands as he reached the vampire's bare ass.

Here, Doyle hesitated, not sure of the wisdom of this, and still less sure of consent. He bent his head and kissed Angel's back, letting his mouth leave a line of hot kisses down his spine. He heard Angel moan in response. Passion once again overruled caution, and Doyle's hands parted Angel's buttocks, a finger sliding between them in an intimate caress. He positioned himself between the vampire's parted thighs and guided his cock toward its goal.

Angel, annihilated by orgasm, felt Doyle push inside him. Oh, by the Powers! It had been so long ... He cried out his lover's name, but it wasn't a protest. It was easy to abandon himself to Doyle's need. He felt each thrust deep inside. Doyle was strong, almost brutal in his long-denied desire. Each thrust drove Angel forward, and he instinctively pushed back, trying to take him deeper.

Another strong wave broke over them and Angel found his hands sliding in the sand, his arms no longer able to support his body. His head and shoulders were underwater now, only his ass in the air. And Doyle was still there, taking him, as if he hadn't noticed. Angel could see nothing, could hear nothing but the hungry waves. The initial panic reaction was quickly over: Angel couldn't drown, he didn't breathe. The panic did, however, force his mind back to a place where he had control.

Even so, Angel's entire being was focussed on what Doyle was doing to him: his hands gripping Angel's body, his heated body so close, so deep inside.

The flood of Doyle's seed filling him, scalding him within.

*

When Doyle finally withdrew from Angel's body, Angel was able to roll over, sitting up in the water. He shook the sand and water out of his hair. Doyle looked at him, and began to speak. Angel cut off the words with a kiss.

The kiss was slow and tender, Angel pulling Doyle into his arms, holding him close. When they drew apart, Angel said quietly, "Doyle ... don't you ever do that again." His actions took the edge off the scolding: Angel was still holding his lover, stroking his back gently.

"You had fun," Doyle pointed out.

"It's not worth it, Doyle." But Angel's arms tightened around the other man. It was a gift he didn't deserve: the knowledge of how much he was wanted, and how little Doyle feared him. He became aware of Doyle's trembling. "You're cold," he realised.

"I'll live."

"Let's get you back to the car." Angel stood slowly, a little unsteady, and helped Doyle to his feet. They picked up their clothing, but there was no point in getting dressed: everything was soaked. Angel looked regretfully at Doyle's leather trousers. They were probably ruined.

He glanced around the beach and relaxed a little: yes, they were completely alone. He kept his arm around Doyle's shoulders as they walked up the beach. It was an instinctive gesture, though his body would do little to warm Doyle. Angel walked slowly, feeling the sand beneath his bare feet. Once they reached the Plymouth they would be back in civilisation. He was reluctant to leave behind the feelings of their encounter on the beach. It had been primal, the fulfilment of pure, animal lusts ... nothing to do with love. Angel had enjoyed it, maybe too much.

At the edge of the sand Angel stopped. As Doyle turned to him, he cupped his face with both hands. Moonlight glinted in Doyle's eyes for a moment, then those eyes closed, Doyle melting into the gesture. Angel kissed him.

"Thank you," Angel whispered.

They stepped onto the concrete. Angel saw his coat on the ground, where he had let it fall earlier ... a lifetime before. He picked it up and wrapped the heavy coat around Doyle's shoulders. "Keep this on. You can't wear those wet clothes."

Doyle accepted the coat gratefully. He watched Angel dress, wet clothing over wet skin. Doyle smiled. "You're gonna catch your death of cold," he joked wryly.

Angel glanced up and returned the smile. "I'm just worried about what sea water will do to the leather." He opened the car door and slid into the drivers seat. Doyle, still shivering a little, sat down, then leaned over and kissed Angel again.

Angel started the engine. The sooner he got Doyle somewhere with central heating, the happier he would be.

"Angel, man."

Angel looked at his lover. "Yeah?"

"It was worth it."


End file.
